Recession Blues Ch. 06

Recession Blues

Original story: Stormbringer

Follow up: RogueAlan

Chapter 6: Blue Eyes Crying

Ann was still dreading her pending decision on Tuesday morning. More accurately, she was dreading what the decision she had already made meant to her life. She had thrown herself at Tom Saturday night in a desperate attempt to prove to herself that Jacen was wrong, that she could be satisfied by sex with her husband. She could admit that being denied release with Jacen had left her more than horny, but that had pushed more the manner than the motivation.

Ann was still dressed as she had been for Jacen... and for the man who had paid for her blow job: just the shorty strappy tank and thong bikini bottoms. She did not bother kicking her three inch heels off, stalking down the hall into the bedroom. Tom had been reading in bed. His eyes had gone wide as he took in his wife, standing mostly naked in the bedroom door.

"Uhm... you drove home like that?" he seemed truly shocked. Ann had shrugged. "You walked out to your car..."

"With the other girls," Ann had shrugged again, the movement setting her breasts swinging, "And anyone in the parking lot had already seen..." She had caught hold of the doorframe, leaning away suggestively and shimmying her hips. "You said you might come see me," she had pouted, striding into the bedroom, and straight to the foot of the bed, not around to her side. Not to his side.

"Well, I was working," he shrugged, "And since I don't get to really enjoy you when you're working..."

"You don't enjoy?" Ann turned away, running her thumbs inside the waistband of the thong from her sides to the front, pressing down, which would have bared her sex to him had she been facing the bed. She crossed her left arm over her stomach, using her right to lift her top over her breasts while her hips moved from side to side. She had turned, then, but lifted her arm, hiding her nipples, but giving Tom a tantalizing peek at the bottoms of her breasts. He had pushed what he was working on down, and she could tell he was hard. "Watching me dance?"

"Oh I enjoy that," Tom had admitted, eyes feasting on her little show, "But I enjoy touching more." Licking her lips, Ann had let her top drop over her breasts again before setting both hands on the mattress. Eyes fixed on her husband's, intensely aware of her need, she balled her fists, yanking the comforter and sheet down, off of Tom. She saw the peak in his boxers, and climbed onto the bed. "I, uh, guess it was a good night at the club," he stammered. Ann shook her head.

"No, it sucked. There was some inspector there and nobody was paying for dances. And you said you were going to be there. And you weren't, but you're still awake." She paused, not wanting him to wonder why she was home horny after a bad night, but left him sleeping after good nights. "Now let's make a baby, lover," She had moved up over his legs, hair cascading almost to his thighs.

"Wait, let me set this..." Ann had swept her hand against the lap desk he was using, knocking the book and papers onto the floor. "Whoa!" Tom had started to sit up, but she was already to his waist, and had planted a manicured hand against his sparsely haired chest, pushing him back on the bed, even as the fingers of her off hand slipped into the vent of his boxers, teasing at the underside of his erection. "Oh!" he had groaned, going still. She had considered yanking his boxers down, but that close, she could not wait, and more clumsily than was necessary but faster than to strip her husband fished him out of the thin sleep pants. She dove into his crotch, slurping him easily all the way into her mouth. And using her tongue over the sensitive underside of his shaft, sucked at him hungrily.

As she did, part of Ann's mind urged her to finish him off, as if it could erase what she had done only an hour before. But she wanted more, and as soon as she knew he was fully hard, Ann sat back, wiping at her mouth as she hitched up over her husband's thighs. Tom's hand closed at her hips, fingers curling down to the edge of her ass, urging her on, as she caught hold of his cock, bringing the pink tip to her drooling, ready seam. She brought him inside of her and settled down in a single smooth movement, head dropping back and sighing as her ass came to rest on his thighs.

Ann braced her hands on Tom's shoulders and leaned forward, kissing her husband passionately as she began to ride him. The first strokes were so eager he nearly slipped out of her and she unconsciously modulated her movement. Before a minute had passed, she was grinding against him at the bottom of each stroke, hips shifting side to side, and curling her back to pres her clit against Tom's pelvis as she did. It felt good, but it was not pushing her closer to the orgasm she craved.

Ann moved faster, still kissing Tom, moaning encouragement as his hands groped her breasts. He was pinching her nipples, but was being too gentle. She groaned in protest when his hands dropped to her hips, but then he reached further down, squeezing her ass as Ann rode him. She responded by humping against him harder and faster. Still, it was not getting her closer to her release. She knew she needed more, and breaking the long delicious kiss, she began to sit up, meaning to vary things.

"Ahhhh!" Tom's hips came off the bed, resisting her attempt to disengage, and she realized belatedly he was already cumming.

"Nooahhhh!" she bit back the protest, embarrassed, and settled back onto him, grinding in the wasted attempt to get enough friction to cum. Tom's hand released her ass, and he sat panting, smiling at her. "Oh God," Ann moaned as she rolled away a moment later, remembering to grab a pillow, which she slipped beneath her ass. She wanted to keep up appearances. Naked atop the covers, she pressed a hand against her sex, struggling to resist the urge to masturbate right in front of her husband. Tom grabbed a Kleenex from his side of the bed, wiping at his spent cock before he settled onto his back. He looked over, smiling at Ann.

"You'll have to have bad nights more often," he said, "I think that's better than getting a private lap dance at the club." Ann smiled,

"I don't know, babe, for you I might consider breaking the rules."

"I'll have to hurry then... You gave Les your notice, right?" Ann shrugged.

"No, not yet." She put a hand up, "Don't. Just, don't. I know what we talked about. But we're..." she looked down at her naked body pointedly, "Finding time for each other again, and the money is so good right now..." When Tom was clearly unconvinced, she rolled part way up onto her side, "Hey, was this so bad tonight?" He rolled his eyes but dropped it at that point, and was snoring softly only a few minutes later.

Ann got up the moment she was confident he was asleep. She brushed her teeth, gargled with the Listerine Tom used that she disliked, and then again considering what she had done that night. She showered, leaning heavily against the tile wall as she finally got off, using her fingers and the spray of hot water. Still, she lay awake for a long time, frustrated by the night, up to and including the too brief sex with Tom.

Tom seemed pleased enough with the results, though, and had tried to get Ann to put out again Sunday afternoon and again when they went to bed, but she had begged off both times. Instead, she had masturbated repeatedly Sunday night, first to get to sleep, and then after a sexy... nightmare, she told herself, in which she was being taken by Jacen and Angel, and then Les and Billy, all on stage at the club, and with a line of strangers awaiting their turn to use her pussy and ass.

When she woke, the married dancer had tried to understand how such a horrible possibility could have left her so aroused, but the pressure of her need, and the sensitivity borne of that arousal had quickly led to her fingering herself. She had cum quickly and strongly, and again just a few minutes later, when she had kept at it. The second orgasm had nearly left her crying out, and she had finally managed to regain some self-control over concern Tom would wake up.

Skin glistening with beads of sweat, the sheets tangled at her feet, Ann had been embarrassed to find that she had her hand buried in her barely sated sex. She had paused, worried there would be pain in withdrawing it, but instead, there had been only a faint... hunger. Panting, she had pulled the covers up, tight to her neck, and lay staring at the ceiling trying to understand how she had come to be so completely controlled by her sexuality.

That ever present desire was already becoming a nagging urge by the time she awoke on Monday, and watching Tom pad naked from the bathroom to his closet, she had seriously considered asking him to be late to work... She knew he would have happily agreed. And yet, the idea of not getting off with the man she loved again kept her from acting. Until he was gone, after which the sex addicted housewife had masturbated urgently to a screaming climax before she bothered getting up.

She had showered and ate a light breakfast, all while pretending that the tickle... the whisper at the back of her mind to 'do it again' was not there. She had sought to escape the temptation by shopping, but that had proven less effective than she had expected; before two hours had passed, she had taken refuge in the mall's Victoria Secret, embarrassed that she kept finding herself staring at strangers—black strangers—and imagining having sex with them. When the older custodian had cleared his throat, interrupting her developing fantasy so that the married stripper found she had one hand pressed against her sex, the other covering her breast, Ann had impulsively fled into the lingerie store.

Further embarrassed at the attention of the salespeople, Ann had hastily selected several pieces, slipping into a dressing room in order to 'calm down.' And doing so had meant playing with herself once again. Flushed, she had purchased the most provocative ensemble of the items she had carried into the dressing room, having never tried it on.

Ann drove about aimlessly. She found herself passing the club, and wondered how she had come to this point, even as the memory of a hundred men shouting and throwing money at her spurred her arousal. The next she realized, Ann had pulled up outside of Jacen's small home. She blinked, and admitted to herself she was hoping that he would fuck her, both to give her what she needed, and to show her what he had said had been a cruel joke.

Looking around, she had sat frozen in the car, worried that his neighbors would see her. And then she had been standing on his front porch, knocking. The inside was dark. Ann had smiled at the mailbox slot positioned beneath the looked through the sidelight beside the door, a throwback. Looking through the sidelight into the dark front room, she gasped, realizing that for the hours she had been Jacen and Billy's plaything she would have been exposed to anyone standing on Jacen's porch. Had the bouncer's mailman seen what was happening?

While she was horrified at the prospect, there was also an undeniable shiver of arousal. Telling herself it was only conditioning from dancing for strange men, Ann had hurried back to the car, glancing at the neighboring houses, wondering if her car was familiar to anyone.

Ann had found a measure of escape at the gym, pushing herself on the treadmill until Tom had texted asking where she was. Drenched in sweat, she had opted to shower, barely managing to keep the temptation to use the gym's hand held shower head to get off before she hurriedly dried off and headed home.

Tom had thought she was quiet at dinner, a simple salad and chicken affair Ann threw together while he used their home treadmill. He had been amused at how much wine disappeared during the meal, but was acutely aware that when tipsy his wife could be a sexual dynamo, and so had said nothing.

Ann had responded to his advance in the kitchen as they rinsed the dishes, and Ann moaned in delight when her husband dispensed with foreplay, pushing her roughly on to her stomach on the kitchen table and mounting her from behind. Clutching at the table's edges, she had pushed back, welcoming his thrusts, and crying out when she came in less than a minute.

Proud of generating such a response, and needing a moment to maintain his self control, Tom had pulled out, flipping Ann onto her back with some difficulty and at the expense of one of their salad bowls. Reaching down, he had hooked his hands around the outsides of Ann's thighs, pushing her knees high, then bring them close, her heels settling on his shoulders as he stepped to the edge of the table while pulling on the tops of her toned quads, pulling Ann down onto his thrusting cock.

"God, yes!" Ann had cried out, cumming again. "Give it to me! Fuck me, baby!" Her words were slurred, she moaned, hips bucking. She dropped her legs down off of his shoulder, heels spurring Tom on. He tried to hold off, the memory of what Ann had hinted they might try and her obvious buzz suggesting could 'make this the night.' And of course, the excitement that possibility caused had made holding off impossible. His tempo increased, broke down.

"Arrgghh!" he hammered into his wife a final time.

"No, not yet, my ass. You could..." Ann moaned as he erupted, "Oh!" but she came again with him, and when they were spent, panting together in the kitchen, she giggled, "I guess I have to ask sooner next time." Tom shrugged,

"Harder to make a baby that way." She giggled longer at that, then went abruptly quiet. "Shouldn't drink," she scolded herself, then.

"Hey, you can't drink once you're pregnant," he shrugged, "But I don't think it's a problem to drink while you're getting that way." Ann had smiled, pulling him down to kiss him passionately, pressing her naked body against his in a full body hug.

"I love you, baby," she murmured, and he knew that she meant it. She was smiling as sleep claimed her. Tom carried his wife to bed, pleased that the night had ended so well.

Ann's phone woke her after Tom had left his hung over bride for work. The alert surprised her—'she takes it off nice and slow,' the riff from the My Darkest Days' hit. Grabbing it off of the nightstand where her husband had set it to charge, Ann groaned at the mid morning light reflecting off of the screen. She squinted, turning the phone, then rolling onto her back and holding the phone up over her head. The large font identified the caller: 'Hilary'

"Hello?" Except it was not a call. Groaning again, Ann struggled to focus in order to read the small print of her friend's text.

H>J says you're gonna work.

For a moment, Ann was not the married stripper who had been... pimped out. Despite all that had happened, and with Hilary no less, at that moment Ann was thinking only about having decided to keep dancing at the club.

A>Yes.

She frowned after hitting 'send.' Looking at the phone, she saw it was 10:27AM. She sent another...

A>You're up early.

H>Mornings suck.

H>Can you help me today?

Ann got up, padded to the bathroom, swallowing a pair of ibuprofen. Her purse was on the sink, and she dug out the mint can and took her pill, wondering for a moment if she had remembered the day before.

A>Sure.

She did not really think about it. And did not bother asking about any specifics.

H>Great. See you at the club at 1130.

H>Dress sexy.

Ann turned on the shower, surprised she had so little time. And curious just what Hilary wanted to do in the morning. Before she could climb into the big stall, her phone rang again, reminding her she needed to change Hilary's alert. She paused, seeing an MMS file downloading with Hilary's text.

H>Here's a morning get you going...

The screen blinked, and Ann gasped, looking around the bathroom as if Tom might appear over her shoulder. The picture the stripper had sent was obviously from that Saturday morning. It showed Ann splayed over Jacen's table, caught in profile. Her eyes were half closed, mouth open in obvious ecstacy. It was a wide shot, and Jacen's cock was visible in the foreground, as was Billy, who was thrust fully into Ann from behind, his long black fingers clutching her bare ass as he fucked her doggie style.

Ann was frozen for several seconds, staring at the image.

H>God you're so hot.

Hilary clearly had no idea how dangerous that was. Ann still hesitated... should she delete it or text her friend first.

A>Hil, you CANT do that... Tom would kill me.

H>OMG Tom isn't at work?!

A>No, he's at work. But you didn't know.

There was a pause.

H>... I didn't think. I'm stupid. Sorry. Delete it!

A>I have

Ann had not, actually. It was almost off of the screen because of the subsequent texts, and some suicidal voice in her head was telling her to leave it.

H>Have you had sex that good since?

A>I have to shower if I'm going to meet you.

H>Ha. No answer is an answer. C U

As she showered, the memory of their shared night with Jacen and Billy persisted, taking on a life of its own, displacing her happy memory of the night before with her husband. The urge was there again, but she resisted, refusing to masturbate, telling herself she would be fine since she would be out with Hilary. As she dried off, she looked at her phone, to see Hil had left another text.

H>Actually, don't delete it... use Calculator%

Ann frowned, wondering what she meant.

A>??

H>It's an ap.

A>I don't think I have it.

H>I know you do. J put it on that day.

Ann paged through her phone. Hilary was right, of course, there it was, an ap she had never seen, hidden in a 'utilities' sub folder. She ran the ap, keyed in numbers... it worked like a real calculator.

A>It's a calculator

Hilary responded with an emoji followed by a number: 22222. Ann repeated the sequence, and found not only the videos that she remembered deleting, but photos, too. She closed the ap.

A>OMG. I'm serious... Tom will kill me.

H>Tom doesn't know about the ap. Or the code.

Ann was partially mollified.

A>Why 22222?

H>Ask J. And delete these. See you at 1130.

While part of her knew she should delete the photo Hilary had sent, and the entire ap from her phone, Ann hesitated. What if Jacen wanted those to be there. She remembered how imposing... scary he had been Saturday night. Instead of deleting it, she followed Hilary's advice, saving the photo into her secret directory, and then deleting it and most of the texts she and her fellow stripper had shared that morning.

That left her even less time to get ready. Ann threw on make up, grabbed a sun dress that she thought would pass for 'sexy' and her three inch heels, followed by her purse. She paused to scribble a note 'out with Hilary' in case Tom was home before she was, and headed to the club.

As she turned into the parking lot, Ann was surprised to find Hilary was waiting by her car, a Mazda Miata that had seen better days. The perky red head circled around the RAV, climbing into the passenger seat. She moved Ann's purse and her own bag into the back, the pulled the Victoria Secret bag Ann had forgotten in the foot well up onto her lap.

"Where to?" Ann asked, surprised they were not going into the club.

"Oh, head south to the plaza," Hil waved her hand nonchalantly, then pulled the lingerie out of the bag. "Nice," she nodded, "I said dress sexy, but this is probably overkill."

"Very funny," Ann rolled her eyes, but she could not bring herself to tell her friend why she had made the purchase.

"Have you eaten?" Hilary asked her as Ann looked for a parking space in the busy shopping area.

"Nope, just got ready and came to the club," she answered, then admitted, "So now I'm starving."